


A Sacred Flame

by comtessedebussy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blow Jobs, Bottom Castiel, Experienced Dean, First Time, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Temple Sex, Top Dean, Virgin Castiel, sacred prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2013-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-30 12:23:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1018568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comtessedebussy/pseuds/comtessedebussy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The goddess of love has many servants - Dean among them. It is his duty, as a priest in the temple of Venus, to perform those acts of love and sex she requires. </p>
<p>Today is the day of Castiel's coming-of-age, and today it is Dean's duty to initiate Castiel into manhood, and into the pleasures of love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Sacred Flame

**Author's Note:**

> In a lot of ancient cultures (Greek, Roman, Mesopotamian), something called sacred prostitution really did exist. There were temples to the goddess of love, whose rituals often involved sex (they were often centered around fertility and also quite public). There are sources suggesting that donations to the temple allowed one to engage in sex with one of the priestesses. A lot of the sources on this are a bit iffy, but there seems to be at least some kind of concensus that this kind of thing did exist. If you're interested, the "sacred prostitution" article on Wikipedia is very informative.
> 
> That said, I took a lot of liberties here. There's no evidence of any kind that these kinds of 'coming of age' rituals existed in any kind of religious sense. However, I couldn't help thinking it made for a good fanfic scenario. 
> 
> Please note the 'mildly dubious consent' tag, as Castiel is taking part in a coming of age ritual that is expected of him, whether he wants to or not.

Castiel looked around warily.

He’s been in temples before, but the temple of the goddess of love is something else entirely. He’s attended rituals before, stood beside his illustrious family as priestesses called upon the gods and goddesses for signs and made sacrifices. But he has never attended a ritual such as this, a ritual whose center and focus was pleasure.

He knew it was expected and necessary. This was his coming of age, his initiation into manhood, when a servant of the goddess of love opened up to him the mysteries of love and pleasure. It was something spoken of with bliss and excitement among his acquaintances – though, of course, most of those he knew had hardly waited until their eighteenth birthday for the pleasures of sex. For them, it had been nothing more than another experience to add to a list of many. But for Castiel, it was a step into another world, strange and mysterious and unexpected.

They led him into a warmly lit room, with soft, dark red cushions and candles, and bade him undress. He shed his clothes warily, shivering despite the warmth of the various flames in the room. Several minor priestesses gathered around him, bathing him, soothing his skin with massages and oils. He attempted to relax, he really did, as their hands worked over his muscles and his back, but instead he found himself wary, hyperaware of each movement. Their hands felt too cold, too strange. He shivered and closed his eyes, willing himself even harder to relax. The hands on his skin were talented. This was supposed to be place of pleasure. Where was it?

He heard steps, the softest of steps, and sat up at the speed of lightning, a hand coming up instinctively to cover his naked form. The robed women whose hands had been on his skin rose quietly and left just as soundlessly the moment he walked in, almost like servants making way for a king.

Castiel looked up, saw why, and stopped breathing.

A man had walked in, completely naked and completely unperturbed by Castiel’s unclothed form. He was tall, slender but well-built, as fine as any of the statues of athletes he had seen. His skin was a warm, tanned color, and his hair shone golden in the candlelight, almost like a halo behind a deity. His face was kind, his whole figure exuding a warm glow. He walked with confidence, his naked figure clearly causing him no embarrassment.

Castiel felt fear pool in his stomach. He had never seen another man naked before, not like this. This was the man he was given? This – almost god? This would be his first?

The man knelt beside him, a warm smile spreading through his features. “Castiel,” he said softly, as the candlelight played on his fine features. He was even more beautiful up close, and Castiel couldn’t help staring.

“I’m Dean,” the man explained, and Castiel nodded absently. His eyes roved over Dean’s face in disbelief, taking in every inch of the fine features, the freckles that added to his perfection. It wasn’t fair, that he was given someone of such celestial beauty.

Dean must’ve seen Castiel’s nervousness – not that it was well hidden. He laid a hand gently on Castiel’s face.

“Hey. This’ll be good, I promise.”

Castiel met Dean’s eyes. They were a bright, emerald green that seemed to shine with its own light, though perhaps that was just the candlelight reflecting. He deflected his eyes from the brightness, feeling a shiver of something that wasn’t fear run through his veins. Anticipation, perhaps. Or excitement?

He nodded. Something about Dean, the light that seemed to emanate from him, the warmth, the kindness, made Castiel want to give himself over. To trust Dean with whatever the other man had planned for him.

Dean leaned forward, and before Castiel knew what was happening, Dean was kissing him. His hands still cradled Castiel’s face, while his lips…his lips were warm, and soft, and gentle. He tasted faintly of something like cherries. Castiel attempted to kiss back, his unpracticed lips mimicking Dean’s movements haphazardly. If Castiel was unpracticed and inexperienced, Dean didn’t seem to mind, only kissed him more, all with the same gentleness, without demands.

When they finally broke apart, Castiel looked up into Dean’s eyes with awe. Dean chuckled.

“You really are new at this, aren’t you?” he asked.

Castiel looked down, feeling a faint blush creep up his cheeks. “I’ve never – “ he broke off, looking at Dean helplessly.

He could see the surprise fighting in Dean’s face with the knowledge that it wasn’t his business. Surprise seemed to win out.

“Never?” he asked.

Castiel shook his head. “I’ve just ….there’s never been anyone I desired. No one with whom I craved this intimacy,” he explained.

For the first time, Castiel watched a crack appear in Dean’s façade of confidence, watched the uncertainty leak through.

“Do you desire this?” he asked.

Castiel looked down. How was he to admit to this man, that he didn’t even know, that he was the first person Castiel had every felt himself desiring? This man, who probably went through these motions of intimacy with hundreds of others?

“Cas, I – “ Dean broke off, looking uncertain. “Look, I know this is expected and all but if you don’t want to –“

“No!” Castiel interrupted quickly. He couldn’t have Dean think that he didn’t want him!

“I mean,” he stumbled verbally, “well, I – Dean, I think – I want you,” he managed to say, feeling his cheeks burn as he said it.

“You sure?” he asked, and Castiel swore he looked flattered. And not at all judgmental that the only person Castiel had ever desired was one he barely knew, one who would probably forget him in a day.

Castiel nodded.

“All right,” Dean agreed.

He kissed Castiel again, and this time Castiel was prepared, this time he knew to expect the softness and the warmth. Dean pushed him down gently, until he lay on the soft cushions with Dean above him.

Dean’s lips broke away from his, trailing over his skin to the crook of his neck and his shoulder. They trailed kisses, and Castiel shivered in pleasure. It felt good. He thought he felt Dean smile against his skin as he continued to worship Castiel’s it, his lips planting kisses at the base of his throat, down his chest. Dean’s lips found a nipple and sucked, and Castiel let out a small moan that he only later realized had come from him. Dean chuckled, but it was the kind amusement of someone who enjoyed the happiness of another.

Dean touched his legs gently, spreading them, and Castiel looked worriedly up at Dean as the other man settled in between them. He had never let another man this close, and he suddenly felt self-conscious, displaying the most intimate parts of himself to another. Dean didn’t seem to notice, though, only leaned down for more kisses.

“Touch me,” Dean said gently, offering him a closeness that he had wanted but had been too nervous to take. He placed his hands on Dean’s arms, running them up and down, placing his palms on Dean’s shoulders as the other man continued to kiss every inch of his body. He craved more, so much more, to dig his hands into Dean, to press them close together, skin against skin, but he dared not. He would let Dean lead.

Dean’s mouth trailed lower, each kiss evoking excitement that ran through every vein of his body. He felt arousal pooling low in his body, hardening his cock. He was no stranger to the sensation itself, of course – even if he had never desired another person, it was not as though he had never wanted to feel pleasure that he could provide himself. But this way it was different, thrilling, to feel another person coax responses from his body that previously only he himself had been able to evoke.

“Dean…” he murmured in awe, as Dean’s mouth kissed at the crook of his thigh. He shifted restlessly, craving _more_ , craving more of Dean’s hands, Dean’s mouth. He had never wanted more before, never this desperately.

Dean’s hands settled on his hips, holding him down, and Castiel made a keening sound of protest.

“Be still,” he said, and Castiel wanted to throw his head back and scream, because Dean has promised pleasure, not frustration.

“The more you deny yourself, the greater the pleasure when it comes,” Dean explained, his hands as insistent against Castiel’s skin as his voice. Castiel nodded reluctantly. His hands had fallen away from Dean when the other man had moved lower, and he dug them into the cushions now.

The moment Dean’s mouth touched his cock, however, all thoughts of promises and Dean’s words nearly flew out of his head. Dean was only teasing him, taking the head of his cock into his mouth and doing something tantalizing and obnoxious with his tongue, and still Castiel couldn’t help but buck his hips. Dean’ pulled off immediately.

“Be still,” he ordered, stricter this time, as his hands dug into Castiel’s hips. Castiel sighed.

Dean took him in his mouth again, and Castiel poured all of his energy into making noise. If he couldn’t move, then he could moan and whimper and scream and plead as Dean took the full length of him into his mouth. He hadn’t even known it was _possible,_ let alone imagine it could feel this good. So much better than anything his hand or his imagination had ever given him.

“Dean, please,” he begged brokenly, as Dean hummed, sending reverberations of pleasure through Castiel’s cock. But Dean only pulled away, his mouth leaving Castiel for what must have been a second but felt like an eternity, before swallowing him down again completely. If Dean found the feel of Castiel’s cock, all the way at the back of his throat, uncomfortable, he didn’t let on; each movement was fluid, a perfect balance of pleasure and tantalizing torture.

“Please,” he murmured again, knowing the word would be useless. Dean pulled away until only the tip of Castiel’s cock was in his mouth, his tongue circling around the tip.

Castiel glanced down. Perhaps he shouldn’t have, for the sight of Dean sent another surge of desperation through him. Dean’s lips were swollen and wet, his own saliva dripping onto Castiel’s dick as his tongue played over the tip. As Castiel watched, Dean’s lips parted over his length again, taking it down as Dean looked up at him, his eyes playful and challenging.

He longed to tangle his hands in Dean’s golden hair, to force him down onto his cock and force Dean to take it, to be as merciless in using his mouth as Dean was merciless in taunting him. He wanted to keep that beautiful head still, those lips parted and ready as Castiel bucked up into them until he had his release.

The feeling was gone as quickly as it had come, replaced by shame. He hadn’t wanted to think of Dean like that, as something to be used. Dean, who was ignoring his own swollen cock to lavish attentions, however maddening, on Castiel. He would not _use_ Dean. He would allow Dean to give.

And Dean continued to give. He was employing a full arsenal of skills, alternating between taking the tip of Castiel’s cock into his mouth and the entire thing, allowing his tongue to lick tantalizingly, deep-throating only to swallow around Castiel’s cock.

Castiel wondered how he’d already lasted this long. Normally, this level of pleasure would have brought him to his climax long ago, but Dean, it seemed, knew exactly how to play with him, taking the long and scenic route to his climax. Still, he could feel it edging ever closer, filling him with a tingling anticipation in every fiber of his being.

“Dean!” he shouted, wanting to tell Dean that he was close, to warn him, but Dean ignored him only to continue his ministrations. His hands let up from Castiel’s hips, and Castiel took that as a sign that finally, _finally,_ he could move, and when he did, lifting his hips, well, that was the moment. He came right into Dean’s mouth, and obediently, unflinchingly, Dean swallowed.

Dean had been right. The tantalizing torture of the wait Dean had put him through was nothing compared to the orgasm that flared through him. He could feel it in every fiber of his being, a feeling of satisfaction and bliss coupled by the sharper, more tangible pleasure as he filled Dean’s mouth with his seed. He was left comfortably lethargic, sinking into the cushions and never wanting to think or move again.

When he caught his breath, he let his eyes flutter open to look up at Dean. The other man knelt calmly beside him, wearing a warmly amused smile.

It made Castiel feel suddenly self-conscious. He was not used to somebody taking care of his needs so completely, to pampering and servicing him so. He had always been independent, had always believed that one must give in order to receive. Yet Dean gave without asking for anything in return, offering Castiel pleasure he had no even imagined before because – well, just because.

“Thank you,” he murmured without thinking.

Dean shrugged. “No problem,” he said nonchalantly.

“Still.” Castiel sat up. “Let me do something for you too. I want to make you feel good. As you made me feel good.”

Dean nodded. He took one of Castiel’s hands, placing it on his naked chest. Castiel did his best not to flinch away nervously. He had asked for this, but at the same time, it felt like too much, to touch someone else like this. Gently, he slid his hand down, feeling Dean’s smooth, strong muscles, admiring the shapely body beneath his hand. His awe must’ve showed on his face, for Dean chuckled.

“Impressed?”

Castiel nodded.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathed, flushing as he said it.

Dean looked down almost – shyly. But Dean couldn’t be flustered by his words, Castiel thought.

Then he shrugged, the uncertainty evaporating as quickly as it had come.

“It’s kinda a requirement of the calling,” he explained off-handedly. “I only got to be here cause Abaddon liked the way I looked.”

Castiel knew Abbadon was the high priestess of the temple – which meant she had a say over most of the rituals and services Dean performed- and even engaged in some with him. He did his best not to feel a sudden pang of jealousy at the thought.

“She chose you because you were good-looking?” Castiel asked.

Dean shrugged again. “That and…well. I think she wanted me herself.”

Dean’s tone was light and aloof; if he minded, he didn’t show it in the least. Castiel, however, couldn’t help feeling slightly appalled. He felt the feeling of jealousy intensify. Helped along by the thought that in addition to Abbadon, there were probably countless others. That was what Dean did, after all. He might be Castiel’s first and only, but Castiel doubtless numbered among hundreds for Dean.

He felt suddenly insignificant. Dean would forget about him in a day. Whatever his hands did, whatever feelings he might elicit from Dean, they would fade from the other man’s memories, mingled with a number of similar experiences not worth holding on to.

He hadn’t even realized how lost in thought he’d been until Dean broke into them.

“Hey,” Dean said softly, placing a hand above Castiel’s where it still met his chest. He trailed Castiel’s hand over his own skin, a gentle demonstration. “Like this,” he offered. Castiel found his thumb at Dean’s nipples, trailing small circles with Dean’s guidance. He continued the motions Dean had shown, and was gratified to see Dean let out a satisfied breath. Suddenly feeling bold, he pinched the tip between thumb and forefinger and was pleased to see Dean let out a louder breath of contentment.

He trailed his hands lower, finding Dean’s hips and attempting to replicate the gentle movements of Dean’s hands. He didn’t think he was doing anything special, but he watched in surprise as Dean’s breath caught. He was so still, almost as if he was afraid that if he moved, Castiel’s hands would drop away.

It occurred to Castiel then that perhaps few people touched Dean like this. That perhaps, of all the times Dean made others feel good, of all the times he performed his duty by bringing another pleasure, perhaps no one had returned the favor.

He let his hands trail even lover, brushing down Dean’s hip to the crook of his thigh and down his leg. He moved it back up the inside of his thigh, attempting to hide his nervousness. He had never touched another man like this…like Dean had touched him. His eyes fell to Dean’s cock, no longer spent but beginning to harden. He ached to touch it, to place his hands there as he had put them on Dean’s skin, but he dared not. Not yet, no, he would simply keep touching Dean like this for now, trailing fingers over skin…

“Cas…”

Dean trailed off after that word, and Castiel glanced up to his eyes to read what he wanted there. To read Dean’s confirmation of what he was asking for. Dean’s eyes, they asked eloquently, even when his words seemed lost.

He took Dean’s cock in his hand and watched in awe as Dean’s eyes fluttered closed at the touch. Dean, who had been so composed as he’s rendered Castiel shaking and helpless with pleasure, was weak at his touch. He brought Dean to hardness easily, watching the impressive length fill out again. He was silent, no noise escaping those beautiful, breathlessly parted lips of his; he was still, resisting the urge Castiel would doubtless have had to rock into the hand lavishing attention on him. But his eyes were still closed, his face still blissful. Castiel had done that. Castiel had made Dean feel, enough to break through his façade of control, if only for mere moments.

He felt the warm glow of satisfaction. Dean deserved this; he deserved more than Castiel could give him for everything he had given Castiel, but at the very least, Castiel could give him this.

“Cas.” Dean’s voice broke too sharply through the moment, his hand landing in a grip on Castiel that was too-tight, his eyes flicking open, too bright, too attentive, even if their green pupils were darkened by arousal.

“Dean?” Had he done something wrong?

“You have to stop. I won’t last, otherwise.”

Castiel looked at him quizzically. “Last?”

“We’re not done yet,” he explained. “There more good things ahead,” he added with a wink.

Castiel couldn’t help feeling surprised. What Dean had given him had already been so good, he had thought it would be enough, and yet he found himself craving for every drop of attention Dean would deign to give him, every moment of their bodies pressed together, every shared drop of warmth.

Dean kissed him again, quick and sweet, before pushing him down onto the same soft cushions.

Castiel spread his legs obediently, as he had before, allowing Dean to settle between them. Dean touched the inside of his thigh gently. “Wider,” he said, and Castiel obeyed, feeling even more on display than he had before. He couldn’t help feeling that the position itself was an unspoken demand to Dean, a demand to give his body pleasure.

He watched as Dean reached for an elegant ceramic container, wetting his fingers with the oily liquid inside.

“This part requires preparation,” Dean explained. Castiel nodded. He had divined as much. He was not ignorant, knew that pleasure between two people often came from one being inside the other. Still, seeing Dean’s impressive length, he couldn’t help feeling nervous, even with the preparation Dean offered.

But, he trusted Dean.

Dean’s touch was gentle, as it had always been; he started with one finger, expertly pushing it inside Castiel. It felt better than he had thought it would, the slightest suggestions of pleasure running through his body as Dean moved his finger inside him.

By the time Dean had four fingers inside him, Castiel was a writhing wreck. Dean’s fingers were as talented as his mouth, opening his body up almost painlessly. They touched a spot inside him that sent Castiel keening with pleasure and begging for more, and they had not even begun. What more could there be? Dean had already coaxed so much pleasure from his body, he wondered how much more his body could feel. How much more he could endure before he broke apart with the all-consuming fire of everything he had felt today?But Dean seemed to know his body so perfectly, to know what it could do and what it could endure. He would know if Castiel was in danger from the pleasure he heaped upon him.

“This part’s gonna hurt, Cas,” Dean told him. “But if you do this more, your body will become used to it.”

Castiel nodded. Had Dean not proven that the pain was worth the pleasure?

Still, he was hardly prepared when he felt Dean push inside him; could not stop the scream of surprise from escaping his lips. But Dean was there, pressing his body to Castiel’s, holding still as Castiel grew used to the feel of another man inside him.

“Hold on to me,” Dean whispered to him, and for once Castiel didn’t second guess his desires. He clung to Dean’s body, letting the warm, kind man above him anchor him. Dean’s hands held Castiel, soothing fingers on his skin. He closed his eyes and willed his body to let Dean in.

Dean seemed to know when he could start moving; seemed to be able to feel Castiel’s as Castiel’s body relaxed around his. His movements were gentle and slow, and his lips met Castiel’s as his body moved inside him. He captured each of Castiel’s pained moans with his kisses, and slowly, slowly, Castiel felt the same sensations of bliss bleed into his body. Dean’s movements were expert – they touched that spot inside Castiel that his fingers had coaxed, until Castiel was moaning with pleasure, until the feel of Dean’s proud length breaching him became discomfort rather than pain.

“Dean,” he murmured, clinging tighter to the man above him. He wanted to be closer to Dean, still closer, even as they were wrapped around each other, even as Dean was inside him. The feel of Dean’s lips at his collarbone, the feeling of warm skin against skin, the feeling of pleasure where they were joined – it was all not enough. He needed _Dean,_ everywhere. He needed to be surrounded by the brightness and the glow, he wanted to bathe in the warmth and be consumed by the fire that was the inevitable outcome of so much light and warmth.

“Dean!” he cried out this time. Dean’s movements had sped up, though still it felt like Dean’s body was doing nothing but serving Castiel, as if Dean’s pleasure was only a second thought. Again Dean’s movements coaxed bliss from Castiel, his cock bringing his climax closer and closer, just like his hands and his mouth had. It was unfair, inhuman, unnatural, for a man to be so talented, for him to make Castiel _feel_ so much. Surely it was beyond the power of a human to fill Castiel with the feeling of so much, so completely? Surely that kind, golden-haired stranger was a god?

If he was, Castiel knew he wanted to surrender to him. Whatever that god would demand, whatever obedience and worship that deity would ask for, Castiel would give it. He had never wanted to submit, but he would submit if this god wanted it.

That was the thought that consumed him as Dean forced another climax from his body. It was even better than the first one, wrapped up as he was in Dean, the feel of Dean, all throughout it. It coursed through his body, until Castiel feared he would explode with the pleasure of it, but Dean was above him, around him, keeping the force of his pleasure contained, keeping him safe.

“Dean,” was the word on his lips as he came.

When Castiel opened his eyes again, he was greeted with the sight of Dean looking spent. He breathed heavily, his eyes still closed. Castiel was gratified to see that for all of Dean’s efforts, he had felt pleasure too.

“Dean,” he said again, and Dean chuckled, his eyes still closed.

“There are other words in our language, you know,” he quipped.

“I know. I just like this one a lot,” Castiel said. He felt lighthearted as he stretched out, feeling Dean do so besides him.

They lay in silence for a short while, Dean’s arms holding Castiel close. Castiel closed his eyes, enjoying the time they had left, time that he knew was trickling away quickly. Dean probably didn’t have all day.

“Thank you,” he said, to break the silence. “This was…unlike anything I had imagined.”

“I’m glad.” And Dean did sound glad; his eyes sparkled with openness as he looked back at Castiel.

When it was time for them to part, Castiel looked to Dean. He hardly knew how to part with this man. He knew he would probably never see Dean again, would certainly never have the chance to touch him again so intimately, even as his body craved it with every fiber of its being. How did one say goodbye to someone that one desired so completely but could never have again?

“You could come back one day, you know,” Dean offered. “If you make a donation to the temple, you can….well, join one of the goddesses’ servants in worship again, if you know what I mean.”

Castiel looked up at Dean in awe. Did Dean want him to come back? Had this meant something more than the routine of a daily ritual to him?

“I’ll see you again, Dean,” Castiel said with a smile.

Castiel watched Dean leave with hope swelling his heart. He knew he would come back to this place. 


End file.
